Mercedes M. Yardley

A Broken Laptop

Moon Bunny: The Murder of Magic

My Moon Bunny? I didn’t think she would stay. I didn’t expect it, not really. I thought she’d go slipping off into the night in the same ethereal, mysterious way that she appeared.

That isn’t what happened.

The owner of the house next door, who rents it out, came by to mow down the lawn. He found Moon Bunny there. He asked if she was ours and if we wanted to keep her. Of course we did. I told him I’d buy her a hutch today.

No, he wasn’t having it. He had already called somebody to come by with a cage, to take the rabbit to his house where it has pine trees to run through. Pine trees? That’s our rabbit. That’s our bunny. We feed her and love her and hold her. She’s my sign that the world is good, that there’s still some magic here, still something left.

I begged for our rabbit. They put it into a cage and put the cage in the back of their vehicle.

My daughters and I were crying. My disabled son didn’t understand what was going on. My very sweet, very patient husband was trying to explain that we all loved the rabbit, we’d been taking care of it, that it was our pet.

“No it isn’t. It’s on my property. It’s mine.”

When they went to close the trunk, I grabbed the cage. I shouldn’t have, I know. But I didn’t know what else to do.

I begged him.

“Please give us our bunny! Please don’t take our bunny!”

He grabbed my wrists and told my husband to control his wife, that he was going to call the police.

Things were escalating fast. I’m ashamed of my role in that. I couldn’t keep myself together. This bunny, she’s more than just a rabbit. She was magic. She was hope that life still has good things in store. She came when I needed her, when I was so broken that I was barely able to function.

I told somebody a few weeks ago that I’m good at pretending everything is okay. I’ve always done it. The day of my daughter’s death anniversary, I went to the World Horror Con after party. A frickin’ PARTY. Hours before I was crying in bed with my daughter’s blanket, but I washed my face and went. And look, I even looked happy.

Because it’s a party, right? Because nobody wants a sad girl at a party. Because Spin and Twirl, Spin and Twirl. Did I fool you? Did you think I was happy? If so, then good. I did my job. Because I was not happy. I was heartbroken.

This rabbit. This stupid, white, out-of-the-blue rabbit. She appeared when I was drowning in loss. When I needed some sort of a sign that I was a good person, that there were things to hope for, that somebody loved me along the way. She was magical. That was taken from me. Now she’s just an animal that a stranger put in a cage. He degraded her. He degraded all of us.

There’s a meanness to the world that keeps being forced into my face. I try to look past it. I strive to see the beauty. I search for the divine, the inspirational, for the things that will get me and my children by. Tonight? I don’t see it. My children witnessed ugliness today, and it makes my heart sink to think that I can’t protect them from it. That I can’t protect myself.

I don’t want to be hard. I don’t want to be that person. But I can’t take any more loss. I just can’t. No more disappointment in people. I’ve hit my threshold for a while. I’m too fragile for you, World. You’re…mean. Just too mean.

I do have some good news. A book signing and a presentation. I’ll share it soon, when things look brighter. For now, I’m going to swing on my swing outside. Yesterday I held a precious white rabbit in my lap while I do so. Tonight my hands and lap and heart will be horrifyingly empty.

5 Comments on “Moon Bunny: The Murder of Magic”

Mercedes, I wish I had some beautiful words to help soothe your broken heart but alas I don’t. I am so very, very sorry about the way you have lost your precious magical bunny. When I read that you don’t want “to be hard” your words pierced my heart. Many years ago people kept telling me I had to put up “shields” and “barriers” to protect myself. I refused to do so because I didn’t “want to be that person” as you put it. Finally I had something happen five years ago that literally shattered my heart. I didn’t think that I would survive. I had known pain, sadness, sorrow and ugliness but this was absolutely the worst. It is a wound that will never heal and yet in the process of trying to find some way to make sense out of life and the world again I developed some “callouses,” if you will, that help to protect my heart and soul. I thought that if you had any sort of protection that you became unfeeling and hard. I have found out that isn’t true. I have cried over the trauma of your bunny that was ripped away from you. When you were in NOLA and feeling the loss my heart was with you then and I spilled more than a few tears. The loss of the 19 firefighters in Arizona has almost totally ripped my heart out so yes, I am still sensitive, yes I am still a feeling person but in all honesty for the most part the pain is not like it would have been if I had before the incident that allowed some toughness in as my broken heart started to heal some. I tell you this because I want you to know it really is okay to let some self protection come into your heart and soul. It will not render you into an unfeeling humanoid. I promise. Also, I want you to know that there is good in the world. It will find you. It will wrap itself around your heart. You will know that it is present and it will provide comfort for you. Yes, there is pain, evil and ugliness but that is not all there is in the world. There is love, there is hope and there is beauty. They are around you and with you. I understand the kind of darkness you have been mired down in for I lived in such a bleak hole before. The light will break through. I promise. The dawn awaits. It will embrace you and healing will begin. The bunny was a sign. There will be others. Keep your eyes and heart open. In the meantime remember that I, and many others, hold you close in our hearts, thoughts and prayers. Much love, Ardee-ann

Honey, you are a good person. You love your family and you keep trying to be all of the things that you want to be, even when the world sucks. And it does. That’s no exaggeration. The world is a cruel place, and life is hard, and it’s meant to be so we learn. So we overcome and grow and live up to our own expectations.

Some of the best people I know have had awful lives. It doesn’t seem fair, until you realize that’s what makes them into those strong, honest, loving people. Those who get the easy lives don’t always understand how to be kind instead of selfish. People who haven’t had it hard get upset about things like a sudden rain or not getting to order out that night, because to them, that is the worse thing they can imagine. I’m sorry that your worst things are so much worse. But I am, very glad, that instead of giving up, you take a moment to live in your sorrow, be honest about your feelings, and then keep going.

And you know that I know what hard is, so I’m not just saying this to make you feel better.

The bunny was lovely. I’m glad you had her when you did. But be glad that you were reminded that there was joy and beauty in the world, when you needed that reminder. Maybe the guy next door needed it too, enough that he was willing to be a jackass to get it. Let’s hope it makes a difference for him, or his children.

Ardee-ann and Carrie, I hope you two wonderful, beautiful, fine, and strong women know how much I love and appreciate you. Your words make me feel so much better. I know both of you know adversity, but look at you. You’re still fierce and kind. 🙂